Temptation In The Dark
by andthedreamgoesreducto
Summary: People always said that bastards were creatures of lust and sin. Gendry knows he should not be with her, not go with her again. But the temptation surrounding Arya Stark is always there. Day 7: Tempted:


**Temptation in the Dark **

**Disclaimer: Last one for the week, thanks so much for the comments! And since I have to say it, I'm not George R.R. Martin or HBO**

**Day 7:**

_Tempted: to entice someone or __**to have an urge**_

The town was a calm place, on the edge of the Kingswood. The land was in no way fertile, the climate in the Stormlands being too damp and too often wet to produce anything. The town largely relied on trade within itself and surrounding communities.

When Gendry arrived in search of work and a place to rest his head, they had been largely accepting after seeing his skills with a hammer. The community had gone on to welcome him with open arms and treat him as if he had been one of their own since birth.

Though Gendry never called the town home or it's people family.

They were his friends and acquaintances and customers. He was just Gendry the blacksmith, they had no idea of his childhood or his journeys, his enemies or his past friends. They didn't know about how he came upon the village, about the rowing boat, kind Ser Davos, or the Red Witch. They only knew that he was from King's Landing, a boy- a man- looking for work. And he had no intention of telling them. He wouldn't tell them. He couldn't tell them.

The ghost of her was too fresh- no matter how long it had been- and too painful to explain to simple strangers just how much Arya Stark meant to him.

**-A&G-**

She arrived on horseback on a unusually warm evening. The road was empty. All travellers settled in the inn and all workers in the town done for the day. The only sounds were the muffled cheers from the inn, the gleeful shrieks of children playing near the wood and the mindless natter of family and friends.

Seeing that the fires were out in the smith, she made her way to the inn. The tavern was stifling warm, with the unexpected heat and the amount of packed bodies inside. It was so full that even she couldn't spot him inside it's walls with mere glance. Deciding that help would be needed, she went to the bar and there met a busty women with flesh spilling out of her tightly fitted dress.

'What can I do for you love?' she asked

'I'm looking for a man named Gendry' she replied, feeling a rush of recollection at the words, she had heard before.

The barmaid looked startled, as if the thought of someone looking for their blacksmith was completely absurd. Which Arya supposed it was. Gendry didn't have any family and his only old friends were her, Hot Pie and some from the Brotherhood. All of them were far away. At least they all used to be.

She pointed her hand forward, straight behind Arya's back. She turned around and immediately recognised the mop of black hair and broad shoulders. He was sitting with three other men, one to his left and two sitting opposite, facing in her direction. All of them were drinking tankards of ale, drunkenly laughing at one another's joke, though Arya noted that Gendry drank much less than the others, who were calling for 'more, more!' and seemed much more subdued.

Without a thank you, she made her way forwards towards him. Quiet as a shadow, she weaved through the throngs of people and tables. She arrived at his table, standing behind him and tapped him on the shoulder. 

He turned around and as soon as he saw her, his face morphed into an expression of utter shock.

The tankard of all fell and clattered to the floor.

**-A&G-**

Her hair was much longer than the last time he had seen her, no more a rats nest of brown hair much like an adolescent boy. She was taller, though not by much. She had filled out her previously boyish frame with curves and held an air of grace. Her eyes hadn't changed. Not really. They were still a beautiful grey, that could see straight into his soul, filled with a darkness and severity that would strike fear into any man's heart.

It was easy to deny that she was a growing girl back when they travelled together, her petite size and boy haircut disguised it. Now there was no way around it. She wasn't Arry the boy anymore, Arya Stark was a grown woman.

_And she was right in front of him. _

He heard the clank of the tankard on the floor and the calls of his name but they didn't register in his mind and he didn't reply. Silence soon filled the inn and all eyes were on Gendry and the mystery woman who had caused such a shock to him.

She said nothing, gave no indication of what she was thinking. She just looked at him. And he just looked her, taking her in, his eyes looking over her entire form, burning the image of her into his mind, to never be forgotten.

Without a word, she held out her hand to him, palm to the ceiling and reached out, indicating for him to take it. He knew right away what taking her hand, what she was asking, telling him.

_Come with me? _

He looked at it and everything inside him screamed about what to do.

_Don't take it! You'll just disappoint her again!_

_Take it, you and Arya again, just travelling round Westeros!_

_Do you really think that if you go with her, you'll be able to deny how you feel? Or that you'd be able to make anything of those feelings? _

He didn't know what voice to listen to. The temptation to go, the temptation to stay, try and move on, make a life here. The temptation surrounding Arya Stark could never leave him.

He looked up into her eyes, and for one split second there was a flicker of doubt in her eyes. She had started to second guess herself. She thought he might deny her. With that realisation, one voice resounded over the others.

_Are you really going to let her go again? _

The decision was made.

He went to reach forward and grasp her hand, a voice interrupted the silence of the inn.

'Gendry! What are you doing?' a squeak came from the corner. Turning his head, he saw Belle, with her blonde hair and brown eyes. She was called the town beauty for her long mane of hair, said to resemble that of Queen Cersei's, and her 'massive teats' as one young boy had called them. He never saw it, but apparently she had seen something in him.

Many girls and women had taken a liking to Gendry immediately. Most of them had given up on pursuing him once realising- or after he had blankly told them- that he wasn't interested in having a relationship of any romantic or sexual nature with any women or girl.

Except for Belle.

And now she was telling him not to go, as if they had been friends or even more all this time.

He could feel Arya's gaze on him, never faltering in it's direction. Belle had made her way to his side now and was looking at him with wide eyes, filling rapidly with tears. She wanted him to stay, was desperate for him not to leave, even after the many denials he had sent her way and refusal to be with her in any way other than friendship.

'Gendry'

Her voice startled him and brought his gaze back to her again. She hadn't moved. Her hand was still reaching out to him and her eyes locked on him. Her expression gave nothing away. Her face was blank, her stance rigid. She wasn't moving. He could go with her now. Or she would leave him here, and never return.

She said nothing else. Just his name. But it had been such a long time since he had heard her say anything, that wasn't in a dream. She only had to say his name, for him to take a small breath and for his heart to skip a beat. That much hadn't changed, no matter how much she might of.

'No!' Belle shrieked 'Who are you?! What do you want from him?! Just leave! Leave him alone you-'

Arya's head turned towards her and one glance at her steely stare stopped Belle. Her sentence cut off and Arya's silence filled the room and an unspoken threat hung in the air. Her grey eyes held mystery and danger, she didn't need to say anything for that message to get across.

She looked back again to him, her eyes holding a question, that only he knew the answer to. It was his choice. His temptation.

He had made his choice a long time ago, he realised, long before she turned up again.

This time, when he reached out he wasn't interrupted. As soon as his hand touched hers, Belle broke down into sobs. And Arya gripped his hand, and he gripped hers right back, anchoring himself to her once more.

He stood up, the silence echoing around them. She turned around towards the door and walked away, him trailing behind obediently. All eyes in the tavern followed them.

But it seemed that Belle wasn't going to let him go.

'No!' she screamed again. 'This isn't fair! He's been here for months. You can't just sweep in here like you own the place, like you own him, and expect him to follow! Just leave him alone you bitch!'

That froze Arya right away, causing Gendry to run into her back. She dropped his hand and moved around him to go towards her. She stalked towards Belle, as if she were a predator about to attack it's prey, which Gendry assumed was somewhere along the lines of what she had in mind.

To stop causing a scene, or less of a scene that they had already devised, Gendry put an arm around her waist and gently pulled her back to him. At first he thought she was going to throw off his hold around her and launch herself towards Belle like the wolf she was. But she surprised him, _like always, _and followed him and didn't remove his arm from around her middle, instead letting him keeping it there and directing her through the crowd.

As soon as they were out the door, it slamming shut behind them, they heard the whispers erupting inside.

**-A&G-**

He led her back to the smith's. Of course that's where he went.

As soon as it was just the two of them, alone, he let go of his hold on her and strode away to the other side of the room. He lit a fire and busied himself with cleaning. As if a dusty blacksmith's workshop would bother her.

He finally stopped after a while and looked up at her. She could still see the same boy she had travelled with. His hair was the same black as night, his muscles had filled out more, his figure now definitely a man's not on the borderline as he had been when they last saw each other. But his eyes, the eyes that haunted her dreams whilst in Braavos, as blue as the ocean, were filled with trepidation. It was as if he thought she was about to double cross him. Whatever had happened to him, whilst with the Red Witch, Arya was sure that what she had done to put that look in his eyes, was definitely worthy of a place of her list.

She was sure he wanted to say something, but couldn't come up with anything. So she spoke first.

'Why here?'

Her question startled him, or at least confused him, by the look on his face. He thought on it for a minute.

'I got out of Dragonstone, because Stannis Baratheon's hand Ser Davos Seaworth, let me out. Put me on a rowing boat, with a bit of bread, an' a bit of water, and told me not to stop rowing till I got to the mainland. The wind shifted me off course a bit and I landed at a port not far from here. Walked here then, to look for work.'

She nodded.

'Why….?' he started 'Where did you….Where did you go?'

'I left the Brotherhood not long after….' she let the sentence hang in the air, not completing it when she saw him flinch 'Anyway, the Hound found me and tried to take me to the Twins. We arrived just after the Freys butchered my mother, brother and his wife. He then tried to take me to the Eyrie, to sell me to my aunt, but she died a few days before we arrived. After a while he got killed and I found a port with a boat going to Braavos. That's where I've been.'

He nodded. The smith's was quiet once more, save for the crackle of fire and the breaths between them.

'Why….Why did you come back? Why now?' he hesitantly asked.

'That's a nice why to greet me' she quipped '"Why are you here?" No hello? No how are you?'

He smirked at her sarcastic comments, but his face lit up with a blush worthy of a maiden. His feet shuffled on the floor, a clear sign of his nervousness that she couldn't help but too feel. It had been years and her she was demanding to see him, what would others think of her?

Not that she cared. She had every right to see him. It had nothing to do with her being m'lady high. He was her pack, no matter how long it had been.

'It's about time people remember who the Starks are' she started 'For too long, there hasn't been a Stark in Winterfell. It's time we take the North back. Reclaim what is ours from those who betrayed us and make them pay with their blood.'

'Why here though? Why this town?' he continued

She paused and looked at him. His face was filed with genuine intrigue and confusion. _Does he really not know? He's still as much a stupid stubborn bull then. _

'I want you by my side' she stated.

'W-What?' Gendry stuttered

'If I'm going to reclaim the North, I'm going to need someone by my side' she explained.

'Me?!' he wondered, his eyebrows creasing together, a look of pure shock and confusion on his face.

'No, your best mate Belle' she sarcastically exclaimed 'Yes you stupid!'

'But- but-…why me?' he begged to know.

Arya took a deep breath and calmed herself to reply. 'I need someone to stand by me. To help me with plans, to help me recruit, to seal deals.'

He opened his mouth to interrupt, no doubt to say he nothing of these things, but she continued before he could say a word.

'But most importantly. I need someone by my side who I trust to _stay_ by my side.' she persisted 'If this all goes down the shit-hole, I need someone who I know won't betray me. Who won't double cross me and do something for their own gain.'

The air was still, Gendry said nothing in reply, just looked at her, eyes wide in awe and bewilderment. From the look of concentration on his face, he seemed to be in deep thought. She made no move to talk to him or make him talk.

'I asked around for you.' he remarked from nowhere. 'When I got back, I asked if there was any news of the youngest Stark girl. There were all these rumours, but I didn't believe them. Not for a second. I knew that you were alive, you were somewhere far away. I don't know how. I just knew' he stopped and looked down at the floor 'Maybe it was because I wouldn't let myself believe them to be true.' he pondered to himself.

'You don't have to come with me' she said 'You can go back to the tavern. Tell them I was just some love-sick girl who followed you and who you turned down. You can go back to your life and pretend I was never here. Go back to ringing any girls bells you want to.'

'I didn't ring anyone's bells' he added in a surprised tone.

'The point is you don't have to come with me.'

After a moment of silence he timidly asked 'Do you want me to?'

'I wouldn't be here if I didn't stupid' she smirked.

And for the first time, since she had seen him again, he smiled a genuine true smile. And that made her smile in return. Without so much as warning, in two great strides he was right in front of her, picking her up and wrapping his arms tight around her.

At first, she stiffened. Human contact of this nature was non-existent during her time with the Hound and in Braavos. She was not used to it anymore, and the sudden trapping of her in his arms, alarmed her more than it should have. But as soon as she felt his arms start to loosen and he was about to take a step back, she embraced him in return, securing her arms around his neck and fiercely bringing him closer to her.

For a time, they just stood there in each other's arms. It was a comfort that they both hadn't experienced in years and this was to be cherished. Moments passed and they didn't move apart, only holding one another tighter.

When they pulled apart, only a few inches so they could see one another's face, they pressed their foreheads together. Grey eyes met blue and the atmosphere between the two changed in a split moment. Gone was the friendship comfort, only to be replaced with a tension they had never felt before with anyone else.

'M'lady' he mumbled, his breath hitting her lips, causing a shiver to shoot down her spine.

'Do not call me m'lady' she whispered back, the distance between them growing smaller and smaller, second by second.

He chuckled against her lips 'As m'lady commands'

Their lips connected and, relief washed through her.

**-A&G-**

In the back of his mind, a voice was screaming at him to stop. To stop kissing her, to unwrap himself from her embrace.

_She's a child! She's a highborn! She's Arry! You've known her for years! She's been gone for years! You have to stop this now!_

But the temptation to keep kissing her, to keep her in his arms, secure and warm against him, was too great. He had given into his desires for her and now there was no stopping it. The kiss deepened and Gendry felt as if he were in the middle of the ocean when a great wave surged over him and he was pulled down to the ocean deep floor. This was inescapable, natural and too tempting to stop.

When they finally did part, an unspoken conversation passed between them.

With no words traded out loud, the untangled themselves on another. Gendry headed towards his bed and quarters, quickly grabbing a bag, and throwing his clothes, his share of bread and water into it. He picked up his hammer and secured it to his belt and looked back up to Arya.

She was stood waiting at the door. With one last look at the blacksmith he had resided in for months, he left, walking away with her hand in his.

**-A&G-**

The last any man, woman or child from the town every saw Gendry the blacksmith and his anonymous companion was the view of them, riding past the inn's window, both on one horse, heading in the direction of the King's Road.

When they heard stories of a wolf lady and a bull headed man travelling north, seeking revenge for the wrongs of the past and reaching the wall, gathering forces to reclaim Winterfell under the name Stark, they knew the bull headed man was their old blacksmith and the wolf was his lady who came from nowhere to claim him as her own.

From then on they spoke of them in whispers and myths and songs. They sang of the mysterious wolf who came to their town and ran away with the bull and now how they ran together through the lands of Westeros.

And when they heard stories of the love shared between them, they realised why the bull blacksmith never wanted any woman in his company.

**-A&G-**

People always said that bastards were creatures of lust and sin. That their blood travelled round their body, hot and fiery and full of passion. Maybe this was what they were referring to. This temptation, whether it be a sin or not, was too alluring to be refused. This was the sin that his bastard heart would always commit.

To follow milady high to the end of the lands and the worlds beyond, as something more than just a bastard who was merely a just friend. Because to him, and to her, that was no sin. It was right, not wrong. He was her stubborn bull and she was his she-wolf, and they would walk, run and fight side by side. That was the way it was meant to be. Some may say it was the way the Gods intended it to be, and maybe they would say it too if they believed in Gods.

All he knew, was that if this was a sin, if this was what the Gods had intended to test him and his bastard nature with, then he would accept if he would reside in hell in the next life. As long as it meant that he could stay with the temptation of her in this one.

Because when their lips locked any punishment he would receive for being so intimate with a highborn was worth every bit of pain. She would always be the temptation, he could not refuse. His temptation in the dark.


End file.
